


Sand Verbena that Grew in Death's Dream

by Cibeeeee



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 16:54:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8169125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cibeeeee/pseuds/Cibeeeee
Summary: Conversations about McCree, Blackwatch and Reyes. Where Hana is curious. Where Angela felt guilty. Where McCree puts on a façade for far too long.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I know Gabriel Reyes is a very special character and one that is very dear to a lot of people, and this is the first time I write about him, so I wouldn't be surprised if he seemed OOC. Advises about characterization are always welcomed. 
> 
> I just been thinking about him and Blackwach for a while and wrote something. This is basically just a bunch a hc smashed into a story.

Hana asked the question one night after a small celebration, after the drunks were hauled away and the sobered were too tired to regret staying sober. Hana asked Jesse the question.

The rec room was empty except for Jesse and young Hana. Lady Luck must be watching for him that night, because Hana’s simple question provoked something out of Jesse that was not simple at all, and Jesse would be damned if he’d let any of the old Overwatch crew heard what he had to say.  

“What was it like, the old Overwatch?” Hana asked him. “Was it like this? Where people were very affectionate with each other?”

Jesse honestly had no idea where the girl got the idea from. He frowned and stared at Hana.

“Lena,” Hana gestured to the doorway, where the drunk English woman stumbled out few minutes earlier. “She hugged me and told me she loves me, and she loves everyone here.”

“Ah,” Jesse nodded, lighting up his cigarillo. He’ll need it. “Lena always was very affectionate, wasn’t she?” 

“I know, it just got me thinking,” Hana narrowed her eyes, knowing McCree wasn’t taking her question seriously. “I thought you guys were like a family.”

Jesse barked a laugh “Family, now? You must have heard that from someone who was in _Overwatch_.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I don’t know what you want me to say,” Jesse said, knowing full well what he wanted to say. “Maybe in the core team.”

“Core team?”

“Yeah, ya know. Commander Morrison, Captain Amari, Reinhardt, Angela. You know. _Them_.”  

“I didn’t know Overwatch had a them,” Hana crossed her arms.

“Maybe not now, hopefully not anymore,” Jesse said, laughter laced into his words. “But before, it’s what made Overwatch worked.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about anymore, dude,” Hana replied, and her next words implied she knew, “you mean Blackwatch?”

Jesse paused his movement, the cigarillo inches away from his tense lips.

“Yes,” he said.

“You were in Blackwatch? You weren’t one of _them_?”

“I ain’t. Never was.”

“So what was Blackwatch like?”

“Well, we sure ain’t the ones to talk about love. Don’t think there ever was any of that between us,” Jesse said, because that was what brought this conversation up, wasn’t it? “Blackwatch wasn’t family. Backwatch was comrades. We didn’t offer each other hugs or sentiments,” Jesse paused, looking away. His eyes landed on a scar hidden away in his palm. “We offered each other our lives.”  

“And Overwatch didn’t?”

“They did, but it was different,” Jesse choose his words. “Their mission were straight forward, there’s bad guys, and they go and take them out. A lot of them was carried with the purpose of being seen by the world. To advertise. They finish the job. Come back, press conferences, medals, praises.”

Jesse took a deep breath. “Blackwatch was eliminating targets before the public even know they existed. You know how people always ask ‘If you had the chance the kill Hitler, would you do it?’”

“Yeah.”

“Blackwatch’s job was to make sure the public never had to ask that kind of question again.”

When McCree talked, he didn’t stop to blow out the cigarillo smoke. Instead, he let the smoke flow out of his mouth as he talked. Hana watched how the pale smoke drifted up, covering parts of McCree’s face.  

“Blackwatch…” Hana murmured, the weight and shape of the word felt wrong on her lips. Like she was intruding. "It was hard?”

“It was.”

“It was what made you who you are today?”

“It was.”

“It treated you badly?”

“It treated me better than anything else did in my life.”

Hana sensed Jesse wasn’t talking about Blackwatch anymore. That was okay. She wasn’t asking about Blackwatch anymore anyway.

Hana held her stare, so did McCree. There wasn’t anything exchanged between the stares, sometimes silence just needed to be filled with things other than words.

Eventually, Jesse sighed. Thinking about the question.

“It was fine, I was treated quite nicely, for an agent in a dangerous work,” Jesse said, chewing on his cigarillo thoughtfully, “I just wasn’t loved.”

If he was loved, maybe things would be different now. Jesse thought.

If you were loved, maybe you wouldn’t have to pretend to smile all the time. Hana thought.

Hana wondered how many aspects of McCree’s life were influenced by Blackwatch. The time when a UN official came, her badge gleaming bright in the sun, McCree saw her and his military instinct kicked in. His back snapped straight and arm at his side. Right hand over his brow, saluting his superior.

McCree’s hand didn’t relax until the UN official gave her nod.

Was that Blackwatch? Or was it something else?

Was it someone else?

These were the questions Hana thought, but didn’t dare to ask.

Jesse saw the questions on her lips, but didn’t dare to answer.

The silence stretched between them once more. Hana looked down. Jesse stubbed out his cigarillo.

Hana swayed in her seats, then suddenly but gently, she rested her head on Jesse’s shoulder.

Jesse showed no sign of acknowledging her movement at first, but after a while he sighed and wrapped his arm around her.

“You are too smart for your own good, kid,” Jesse murmured.

 

．．．．．

 

Hana knew about Gabriel Reyes. She knew he was the one that led the world through the first Omnic Crisis. She also knew his gradually declined appearance in the public eye, and the gradually increased appearance of Jack Morrison.

Hana knew because her mothers talked about him. “Oh no,” her mother said out loud one night while the family was watching the news. Something about an explosion at an Overwatch Headquarter. Hana wasn’t paying attention at first. Her eyes glued to her game.

“Oh no,” her mother said again, turned to her wife, eyes wide. “They said… they said Commander Morrison died in the explosion.”

“Fuck,” That was what drawn Hana’s attention away from her game. She rarely heard either of her mother curse.

“Overwatch was failing already. I imagine this will only make it worse.”

“Not to ment– ”

“Who’s Reyes?” Hana asked.

Her mothers both turned to look at her.

“Gabriel Reyes,” Hana pointed at the news. “He was the other casualty.”

“Captain Reyes is a questionable leader,” her mother answered. “He led some shady missions.”

“Wasn’t he the one that led Overwatch at first?”

“Yes, well–”

“He was really good, wasn’t he?” Hana continued, remembering her history class. “Why did Jack Morrison–” 

Her mother turned off the news. “Let’s not talk politics at home,” she said tersely, and walked away.

When Hana recalled this conversation – years later, sitting next to McCree after an Overwatch party – she now knows her mother walked away because she didn’t know the answer to Hana’s question either.  

And Hana’s stomach twisted painfully, out of guilt, because all of her understanding of Gabriel Reyes came from her mothers (“Questionable leader.”), media (“The assassinations led by Gabriel Reyes…”), and people’s talk (“Overwatch shouldn’t have a group like Blackwatch!”). She didn’t know how ignorant people could be, how much information the media omits until she also was a part of this world herself.

Looking up information Gabriel Reyes has been a nightmare. Having little to no access to the Overwatch database; sorting through limited old reports and medical assessment, still knowing almost nothing about him.

Hana knew who she could ask. No one, of the old Overwatch team, ever talked about Reyes.

But they almost always let his name slip out, and caught themselves at the last second. Reyes was a part of every aspect of Overwatch, whether the world knows it or not. And if they were talking about the old days, Reyes’ influence wasn’t something they could just ignore, no matter how much they wanted to.

Hana observed them for months, taking mental notes, testing waters.

Angela shifted her eyes and looked at herself in the conference room window. Guiltily, Hana noted. Torbjörn balled his fist and frowned. Biased because of resentment, Hana guessed. They both won’t give Hana the things she wanted.

Reinhardt sighed, looking woeful. Lena silenced. Fareeha sat straighter, a stern look on her face.

And the only agent in the old Overwatch crew that never, not once, even mentioned Reyes.

But seemed like the one that cared the most.

Hana knew if she wanted anything real about Reyes, she would have to go to McCree. But she wasn’t too keen on making the ex-Blackwatch agent remember the things he was trying to forget.  

In the end, she didn’t ask about Reyes. She didn’t need to.

 

．．．．．

 

“I think I can handle it, Angie,” Jesse puffed.

Angela constantly had to remind herself that Jesse could handle missions perfectly, if he wanted to. Execute an op with _zero_ witness and casualty, Jesse has done it before.

Reyes used to hand solo mission to Jesse without a second thought. And sometimes when Blackwatch was overwhelmed with mission and jobs, Reyes would also let Jesse led missions without Reyes.

_“It’s not like I’m playing favorites,” Reyes told Ana and Jack after dinner. After the first time he temporarily gave Jesse a part of Blackwatch for an operation. “You know he can do it.”_

And Reyes never had to worry about Jesse letting the power get to his head. For all the power Jesse McCree held over Blackwatch, he was loyal to Reyes only.

Angela knew this back then, the power Jesse held and one he didn’t know he had. That made her more wary and defensive of Jesse than she would admit to anyone.

That was a long time ago, Angela knew better now.

A memory nagged at her. She saw it in her mind like a movie, in third person. Angela had replayed this piece so many times she could slip out of her young self and watch, pretending it wasn’t her.

Angela saw herself, nineteen-years-old, walking down the hallway. She saw Reyes and Jesse smoking together from the corner of her eyes.

She saw Jesse raising his hand, mid-wave. And she saw herself tensing and turning her head, not intending to acknowledge Jesse’s act of friendliness.

But that time, when Jesse was about to wave at Angela (like he always does), Reyes’ hand grabbed Jesse’s, and pushed it down.

Jesse startled, looked at Reyes with wide eyes.

Reyes’ said something Angela couldn’t hear. But after years of thinking of this, she could guess it was _“Stop trying.”_

After a moment, Reyes let go. Jesse lowered his eyes, and took a puff of his cigarette.

“You alright there?”

Jesse’s voice pulled Angela back to the present, so much deeper from when they were teenagers. So many differences. The scruffy beard, the wrinkle around his eyes, and the smile he wore that always seemed a bit strained. Like Jesse wore it out of habit, not because he meant it.

That always made Angela’s chest stung.

She reached out and held his hand, Jesse was so dear to her. One of her best friends. Angela wished for the thousandth time she could tell her past self to give Jesse a chance earlier.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Angela said softly.

“I won’t let him get to me,” Jesse promised.

Jesse squeezed her hand back, and for a second, Angela could pretend Jesse was telling the truth.

        

．．．．．

 

Jesse knew who Reaper was. Too many missions since recall where Overwatch crossed path with him. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together and figure out who he was. That was a tense day at the Gibraltar base, after their first encounter with Reaper. The ghost followed them back to base, and never left.

Since then, any mission that involved Talon set Jesse on edge. Because Talon would send Reaper out if they knew Overwatch was onto them. And these missions almost always end in failure.

Jesse would avoid these missions, but sometimes, he doesn’t have a choice.

All Jesse could hope for was getting his part done before the inevitable confrontation. It only made it worse that Jesse never once pulled Peacekeeper on Reaper. Not even now, with a shotgun wound to his shoulder, getting backed into a corner.

Jesse groaned, hand pressing against his wound. He settled against the grimy ally wall and tilted his face up.

Reaper’s mask filled his vision as Jesse’s eyes drop.

“I thought I taught you better,” Reaper said. He’s not closing in anymore, but Jesse felt like he was shrinking under the other man’s gaze. “Getting cornered like this. I hardly had to do anything.”

“You fucking know why,” Jesse muttered, and groaned again when Reaper’s talon scraped across his jaw as the ghost seized him. Reyes knew how Jesse felt about him. That was one thing Jesse could say for certain.

“You never cared about me,” Jesse spat. His eyes burned more than his wound. “I knew you valued me, thought I was important asset, but you never felt…”

Jesse choked, unable to finish. He coughed, wheezed, and teared up.

Reaper’s shotgun pressed against Jesse’s throat, the recently fired barrel burned hot on his skin.

“You stupid _ingrate_ ,” Reaper’s gravel voice dropped to a whisper, and still sounded harsh. The man was enraged, and Jesse felt his knee threaten to give out. Reaper’s arm caught him. “You must be dumber than I thought, if you think you were anything but _loved_.”

The gun on his throat disappeared, and seconds later came smashing hard on the side of Jesse’s head.

Black spots started to edge in Jesse’s vision. His head pounded from the impact. Threaten to knock him out any second.

The pain was no match to the sudden silence that screamed in his head, the excruciating pain of missed chances, and the emptiness of bygone love that filled Jesse.

He eventually black out. When he woke, Jesse thought the darkness didn’t last nearly long enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I just want McCree to be loved okay  
> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://cibeeeeee.tumblr.com/) and/or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/spiciestcibee?lang=zh-tw) !


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